


Maybe When You're Not Drunk

by Starla (Starla_Larla)



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Fluff, M/M, rubberdoop, ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:00:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starla_Larla/pseuds/Starla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry was a saint, as always, and bars should really have books in them.</p>
<p>(1,871 words)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe When You're Not Drunk

Smoke clouded Barry’s vision, filling his nose with an acrid stench. He wasn't sure why he'd let Dan drag him here; he despised bars, despised the people in them, despised everything about them. And yet, here he was, with a beer set in front of him and his phone laid on the polished wood surface of the bar. He flinched every time someone screamed in happiness behind him, momentarily interrupting his blind Twitter scrolling and adding just a  _ tiny  _ bit more irritation to his mounting anger.

 

“Need anything?” the bartender asked.

 

Barry glanced up. The bartender was a curvy Hispanic woman with caramel skin, dimples, and dark, wavy hair dyed neon pink at the tips. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady but her hands never stopping. She started shaking a drink, one eyebrow arched a little. She gave Barry the impression that she'd rather be anywhere but a bar on a Saturday night.

 

“You should take a picture. It’d last longer,” she said, the corners of her lips tightening into an easy smile that hinted that she hadn't been put off by his brief staring.

 

“Sorry,” Barry said anyway. “I’m good, thanks. Unless you can get me out of here.”

 

She laughed shortly, and poured the drink she’d been making into a martini glass. “If you're trying to pick me up, it's not working, buddy,” she said, putting an olive into the glass and setting it in front of an already very drunk man next to Barry. She started wiping the counter as the man took his drink and left with a boisterous laugh.

 

Barry felt his face get hot. “What? No. I just don't like bars. I'm only here because my friend convinced me to be his driver in case he gets...really drunk.” He made a face, nudging his beer to the side, and sighed, going back to thumbing through his Twitter feed. “I'd appreciate some water, though, if you're still offering.”

 

The bartender frowned a little, more sympathetic than upset. “Responsible, I see. Good for you. Just give me a second.”

 

She walked off, and Barry flinched again as another round of obscenely loud laughter stabbed his ears. “Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” chanted Dan, egging on some random stranger. It was the man who’d ordered the martini. Barry groaned loudly, but it was lost over a swell of harsh, badly-played electric guitar and drunken lyrics being belted out by some amateur.

 

The bartender set a glass of water in front of him and patted his shoulder reassuringly before darting off again.

 

Hours passed. Barry watched as the minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow: 8:52 pm. 10:23 pm. 12:00 am. 2:35 am. The bartender left, replaced by an obnoxious guy who barely scraped 21 and seemed beyond drunk before he had even properly started his shift. Barry's legs were cramped from sitting so long, and his Twitter feed and phone battery were on their last legs in terms of content. Did he dare check the Game Grumps tag on Tumblr to pass the time? No. Leave that horror to Arin.

 

The music had gotten only marginally better. Dan had snagged the microphone and was screaming nearly-incoherent words into a backdrop of drums played by a five-year-old. Barry was contemplating just ditching him, but that would be rude. And Barry wasn't rude.

 

He wasn't sure how long he’d been staring at the flickering neon ‘OPEN’ sign (his eyes hurt, though) when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

 

He turned to look, and was met with the blotchy red face of a pale, drunk young man with blue eyes and brown hair. He had a narrow jaw, thin lips that were set into a quirky grin, and Barry could smell vodka on his breath.

 

He recoiled, just a fraction of an inch.

 

“You seemed lonely,” the man—probably in his mid-twenties?—shouted over the awful music. “Can I buy you a drink?”

 

Barry didn't reply for a few seconds.  _ Can I buy you a drink? _ He remembered reading that some men lost interest if they asked a woman this and she wanted a non-alcoholic drink. Did it work for other men…?

 

“...Iced tea, if you really wanna win me over,” he replied slowly.

 

The man seemed a little taken aback, his smile faltering for just a second, but then his drunken courage was back full-force. “If you say so,” he said, and turned away, signaling the (horrible) bartender. Within two minutes, Barry had an iced tea, and the man seemed to be gushing with pride.

 

“Thanks,” Barry said, taking a sip of his tea and looking down at his phone, hoping the man would take the hint and leave. Alas, his phone had given out, and the loss shook Barry to his core.

 

He was wondering what the educational value of a bar menu was when the man piped up again, “So what's your name?”

 

Barry paused again, and sighed deeply. “Barry,” he drawled.

 

“I'm Ross!” the man chirped. “I'm from Australia. You're real cute.”

 

Barry felt himself blush, but shook it off as tiredness. “Cool.”

 

Ross just giggled stupidly. “Reeeeaaaaaal cute,” he said, swaying in his seat a little. “You single?”

 

“Yes,” Barry said through gritted teeth. He immediately regretted his honesty; saying he was taken would've probably deterred this ‘Ross’ character.

 

But no. Barry was, yet again, a saint.

 

Ross’s already giddy expression got even more happy. “Lucky!” he beamed, probably referring to himself. “Aw, man, my friends were betting you weren't. Dan said I should come say hi. Dan said we’d be cuuuuuuute together!”

 

Barry groaned again. He'd have a few choice words to say to Dan tomorrow morning. “I'm not gay,” he deadpanned.

 

“So? You don't have to be gay to like guys,” Ross scoffed. “I'm not gay. I'm BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIsexual!”

 

“Good for you, buddy. I really don't care.” Barry chewed on his straw in boredom, looking at anything except Ross.

 

Ross poked him, then giggled. “I like your beard,” he said, batting his eyelashes…‘seductively’.

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “Thanks. Go away.”

 

Ross’s expression fell a little. “You don’t like me?” he asked, voice tinged with sadness.

 

Barry paused, setting his jaw. He hadn’t meant to hurt Ross’s feelings, he just wanted him to leave. He glanced around, staying silent, and looked for Dan to see if he’d be ready to go anytime soon. The music had stopped a few minutes ago, and, sure enough, Dan was passed out on a table with empty beer bottles strewn around him and two other strangers already setting up a game of beer pong on his back, giggling like children.

 

Nope. Barry wasn’t leaving for a long time.

 

He sighed, glancing back at a dejected Ross (who was about to start crying). Since his phone was dead and bars were unfortunately lacking in reading material, he supposed his only option was to talk to him.

 

“Nah,” he said. “I like you just fine.”

 

Ross instantly perked up. “Really?”

 

Barry stifled yet another sigh. “Yes, really.”

 

Ross made a little squeak of happiness, and threw his arms around Barry, giving him a sloppy kiss on the lips. Barry let out a muffled cry of surprise, and pushed him away, scrubbing at his mouth with his hand. “What the hell?!”

 

Ross just looked even more drunk than before. “Can I kiss you again?”

 

Barry just stared at him.

 

“I'll be better at it this time,” Ross pressed.

 

Barry didn't want him to cry, and honestly, it hadn't been the  _ worst _ kiss he’d ever received, so reluctantly, he said, “Fine.”

 

Ross beamed again, and leaned forward, slower this time. He pressed his lips against Barry’s in a little smooch, then pulled away, face completely red. “...See?”

 

Barry was stunned into silence. It wasn't the best kiss, but something about it felt right, in a way. “Okay…okay, yeah. I see.”

 

They just sort of looked at each other for a minute. Ross’s face stayed completely red, and Barry was sure he looked the same.

 

“I'm sleepy,” Ross announced suddenly, and he passed out, falling forward.

 

Barry grabbed him before he could smack his forehead into the wooden bar, and gently placed him down. He fleetingly wondered if he could drive him home, then realized he didn't know where that was.

 

Barry chewed his lip, thinking, then grabbed a napkin and a pen and scribbled his number and name down. He folded the napkin, placed it in Ross’s pocket, poking it out a little so he didn't miss it once he woke up. Patting Ross’s shoulder once, he stood up and made his way over to Dan.

 

Dan was snoring loudly, completely oblivious to the red plastic cups set up along his back. “Don’t...Jesus. Don’t play beer pong on him,” Barry groaned at the two strangers next to him. They stared at him, confused and irked, but then shook their heads and walked away, muttering to each other.

 

Barry gently started to clean Dan up, taking the cups off of his back and picking him up, with some difficulty.

 

As he carried Dan out of the bar, he cast another glance towards Ross. He was still fast asleep, as Barry had expected.

 

He turned away, carrying Dan out to his car and starting to drive them home, thoughts occupied with his new admirer.

 

\-----

 

The next morning was filled with Dan lying in bed with the covers drawn up over his head, moaning about a hangover. Barry took care of him, making him toast after he threw up at 5 in the morning and helping hold his hair back and generally being the good friend he was (not that he liked to boast or anything). He found his thoughts drifting to Ross, even as he was helping Dan get through the day. His phone had remained silent.

 

“Barry,” Dan slurred, still delirious from the previous night, “you’re”––he burped, then groaned, placing a hand gingerly over his stomach––“the best.”

 

Barry patted his shoulder. “I know.”

 

They sat in silence for a while, then Barry patted him again and stood up from the bed. “I’m going shopping. You need anything?”   
  


“A new stomach and...a new brain,” Dan said, closing his eyes tightly. Barry smiled thinly.

“Can’t buy those, Dan,” he said.

 

“Then...I’m fine,” Dan murmured, laying down slowly with a hand still on his stomach.

 

Barry walked out of the room, grabbing his phone and keys and shutting the door. Right before he reached the car, his phone buzzed; he glanced down. It was a text...from an unknown number.

 

**3:53 pm**

**ist his barry? it;s ross.from the bar**

 

Barry blinked. Judging by the typos, Ross was having just as bad a day as Dan was. He texted back:

 

**3:54 pm**

**yeah. didnt think u’d text lol.**

 

A pause. Ross texted:

 

**3:56 pm**

**sorry abt t he kiss last nigth**

 

**3:56 pm**

**whyd u giv me ur number ?**

 

Barry thought.

 

**3:57 pm**

**i’m not sure really. you just seemed nice.**

 

He added a blush emoji.

 

Ross texted:

 

**3:58 pm**

**will u go otu with me ?**

 

Barry smiled a little.

 

**4:00  pm**

**as long as it’s not to a bar.**


End file.
